


Where the Heart Is

by WellDoneBeca



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Arranged Marriage, Bran isn't the three eye raven, Doran Martell has a plan, Dorne, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, House Martell, House Stark, Marriage of Convenience, Minor Catelyn Tully Stark/Ned Stark, Minor Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Minor Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Minor Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Ned Stark Lives, No White Walkers, Oberyn Martell has a plan, Oberyn Martell is a Good Parent, Robb Stark is a Gift, Secret Plan, Strangers to Lovers, The Martells have a plan, everyone is happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellDoneBeca/pseuds/WellDoneBeca
Summary: An arranged marriage to the future warden of the north gives Dyanna an in to seek the revenge on the Lannisters she’d been long thinking up.  The intention was to stay emotionless and eventually return to her homeland of Dorne.  But as the princess put her plans into motion, the kind and charming Rob Stark starts to work his way into her heart.  When it comes time to leave, she begins to realise that home is where your heart is, and her heart isn’t exactly in Dorne.
Relationships: Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Robb Stark/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> Summary by @avengerscompound  
> Dyanna was named after Lady Dyanna Dayne, wife of King Maekar I Targaryen and mother of Egg - from The Hedge Knight story. She died before her husband was crowned king, so she never became queen. I only realised her name might be interpreted as a homage to Lady Diana Spencer (aka Princess Diana) when I was finished writing the story.

Things like heat and cold are very relative. Sometimes when Dyanna was a kid, sitting at dinner on especially windy, rainy nights, she thought she’d never faced such a cold. She would sit close to a fire and cuddle together with her sister before falling asleep. But Dorne wasn’t cold _ ,  _ it was  _ never  _ cold, she could see it now.

“Winterfell,” Dyanna whispered, laying her eyes on the castle, which was covered in snow even though it wasn't wintering yet.

“They’ve probably seen us already,” her father noted. “It’s best to be prepared.”

Their journey was very long. The pair had left Dorne over three moons ago to the North with the objective to marry Dyanna to Robb Stark, heir to the seat of Winterfell and son of Eddard Stark, the hand of the King.

Dyanna was Oberyn Martell’s only legitimate child, his 5 th daughter. His story with her mother – Alysanne Dayne, a member of House Dayne from High Hermitage — was one very short. They’d married by mistake, both drunk with an insane septon who didn’t know better. They lived as lovers for as long as their marriage lasted, not caring much for their status, but she’d passed away less than a full moon after giving birth to Dyanna, and Oberyn was with Ellaria – his paramour – not long after. She was like a mother to the young girl, and she couldn’t imagine how her life would have gone if Ellaria hadn’t been in it.

Four moons before the pair left home, Dyanna was informed that her family was searching for an ideal daughter to be married to Robb Stark in order to form an alliance between their houses and bring down the Lannisters – a plan which had long been in the making. King Rhaegar was willing to legitimise any of the sand snakes who were willing to do so, and the options were narrowed down to Dyanna, Elia, and Sarella, as Dyanna the closest in age to the young Lord. Sarella, however, had refused the offer as soon as it was made – as had Tyene before she could have even been offered. El wasn’t thrilled with the possibility of being married to a man in a distant land either, much happier in staying where she could be around her horses and wouldn’t have the responsibilities of running a castle. She was also very young, at just 14, and it would take at least two years for her to be sent to Winterfell if she was the one to be married. Truth is, Dyanna was the one most fitting for the role.

Between the nine sisters, she was the most lady-like. She knew her numbers and was social, so could run her own castle with ease. She was also good with sewing, embroidery, understood the cycles of plants and growing food, was an extraordinary archer, and could defend herself with any blade if necessary – Oberyn made sure of that. Tyene was the better sister when it came to poisons, but Dyanna also knew just enough from watching her and their father.

The decision was made that it was she who was going to marry the young lord, and here she was, freezing her nose out in a land so far from her real home that she had to wonder if it wasn’t too late to turn around and leave. 

This was her home now, or at least for as long as Dyanna needed it to be. 

The plan she was there to execute was carefully crafted by her father and uncle Doran. The Starks were the closest family to the royal family now. Lord Eddard’s sister, Lyanna, was married to King Rhaegar and had a huge influence on him, and her groom’s sister was about to marry crown prince Jon in the same ceremony Dyanna was marrying Robb. They would use the Starks as a tool to reach the King and finally bring down the Lannisters for what they had done to Elia, years and years earlier. 

The doors to the castle opened to the Dornish group, and Dyanna’s eyes were quick to fall onto the man she recognised as Hand of the King. If he was there, the King himself had probably arrived as well along with his family and the court. The castle was probably packed with people.

Oberyn was the first to dismount his horse, and it wasn’t long before Gerold – Dyanna’s cousin, the son of the brother of her late mother. – was helping her out of hers. 

“Lord Stark,” her father greeted the man, then turned to offer her his hand to hold. “I believe you’ve met my daughter, Dyanna.”

Eddard Stark was a man older than his years. He was younger than her father, but Dyanna couldn’t tell that by looking at him. He wasn’t exceptionally tall or handsome, had a long face and brown hair, and a beard that was greying steadily. 

“It is good to see you again, Princess Dyanna. Prince Oberyn, I hope your journey here was safe and pleasurable.”

“I can’t complain.”

She just watched them. She had met Lord Stark in one of her visits to King’s Landing, along with his wife and younger children – Bran, Arya, and Rickon, the last one a boy born in the capital. Catelyn Stark was a beautiful woman, tall with auburn hair and blue eyes, fine and long fingers and high cheekbones, but cold eyes. Her brother had died just days before the black-haired girl accepted the offer - and was the biggest reason she had done so -, and she could see by the corner of her eyes the black dress that indicated she was still mourning.

“Lady Stark,” Oberyn took her hand, kissing it and offering the woman a smile. “You look as beautiful as ever. I am sorry for your loss.”

The woman blushed but offered him a small smile. 

“Thank you for your kind words, Prince Oberyn,” she pulled her hand away when he released it. “Princess Dyanna.”

“My lady,” she said politely. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you for your kind words, but we’re not here to discuss our losses, not in such a happy occasion. I don’t think you’ve met my son,” she stepped aside from her husband. “Robb.”

And that was when her eyes fell on her future husband for the first time.

Robb Stark had his mother’s bright blue eyes and thick red hair, and a strong build to his body. He was good to look at, and Dy had to wonder what kind of lover he’d be. By his side, a grey wolf as big as her future husband stood watching the girl, making her heart pound in fear. She had met one of the Stark wolves before – Arya Stark’s one had the same name as her younger sister, Nymeria, and even Prince Jon had his own – but they never ceased to frighten her.

“My Lord,” Dyanna looked into his eyes.

“Princess Dyanna,” he extended his hand, which she took a moment before he laid a kiss on her skin. “You don’t need to fear him. Grey Wind is a friend I’ve had since I was barely a man.”

The princess took in another breath. That was easier said than done.

“And how long was that?” she questioned, brown eyes digging into his blue irises.

“Around five years, give it or take,” he moved his hand, caressing the back of the beast. “I found him the same year my father travelled south to be the hand of the king.”

Dyanna just confirmed with her head, taking in the information, then glanced at the wolf once again.

“He’s… beautiful.”

Robb smiled, but she was pretty sure it was just to be polite. 

“Thank you.”

They fell into silence, just staring at each other awkwardly until Lady Catelyn moved closer to her son’s side, taking her attention from him.

“I suppose you are all tired from the journey,” she intervened. “You will be shown to your rooms.”

“Has anyone else arrived?” Oberyn questioned, looking around the place.

“Every guest we were expecting has already arrived,” Lady Stark informed him. “We were just waiting for you two.”

Her father nodded and kissed her cheek tenderly.

“I’ll leave you be. I am due to an important audience with the King.”

She didn’t have time to answer, as he was already walking away, leaving his daughter in the middle of the cold yard. Before she could voice her dissatisfaction, a girl of golden hair appeared by her side in a rush.

“This is your handmaid,” Lady Stark explained. “Genna Locke.”

“My Princess,” she curtsied.

Dyanna nodded at her. She had brought her own handmaid from home, a girl who’d been attending her since they had both flowered, but it’d be good to have someone who knew the castle well enough. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“She will guide you to your room.”

The princess let her guide her way and clutched her coat over her body. She could see her own fingertips becoming pale already.  _ Gloves, she needed gloves, and fast _ . Gloves, coats, thicker clothes. She was truly freezing.

The moment she entered her room, though, it became many times warmer, and Dyanna released a breath of relief.

“Thank the gods,” she whispered, sitting on her bed as her things were brought inside and the handmaids – both the new and the old one – started already settling everything in.

Dyanna looked around the room and couldn’t help but sigh. This was where she’d be now. She’d better get used to it sooner or later.

* * *

Dyanna had complained about her dress being too hot when she first tried it at home but could understand completely what the seamstress was going right after stepping out of the warmth that surrounded her room and the solar she now shared with her soon-to-be-husband. Her body was protected from the cold, but she still looked like a Dornish princess, which was a splash of warm colours in the cold castle.

The princess first day in Winterfell was spent in her bed, sleeping under a mountain of furs and through whatever her handmaids were doing in her room, her body so tired that she’d slept through dinner and supper altogether, only eating after her father himself had shown up to get her up.

Her handmaids left her alone at the door of the sept, silently curtsying before walking away, and she offered a small smile when her future sister-in-law was placed by her side with the same care. Dyanna had yet to have a conversation with Lady Sansa. As part of their large alliance, she was marrying Prince Jon, the only living son of King Rhaegar after Aegon and Rhaenys were brutally killed all those years ago.

“Princess Dyanna,” she said with a cheery voice.

“Lady Sansa,” she greeted her back. “You look beautiful.”

And she did. In an ivory dress and with her fiery hair braided in a way that resembled a flower, she was a sight to be seen.

“Thank you,” she blushed. “You look beautiful too.”

The princess didn’t have time to thank her, as the door to the sept opened. They stepped in hesitantly, and Oberyn was there to take her arm. The sept was almost too small to fit in the number of people present, most of them intending to see the future king and queen of Westeros start their union. From what Dyanna could see, lords of many important houses were there to watch the ceremony.

Robb took the Dornish Princess from her father when they reached the altar, and she only wondered if people could see they were nowhere as in love as the couple by their side clearly were. He cloaked her with Stark colours, and they said their words, then the septon declared them one flesh, one heart and one soul, for now, and forever.

_ Or for as long as she needed it to be.  _

Things were set for their annulment before Dyanna even left. ‘Say the word’, her uncle had told her. ‘And you’ll be free to come home.’

The people cheered and she closed her eyes when her husband leaned in to kiss her lips, but opening them to look up at her in surprise when a single peck was lied on her forehead, all while the prince and her new sister kissed passionately.

“Shall we go?” Robb offered his arm to his bride.

The black-haired girl looked in his eyes for a moment but took it after it passed.

“Yes.”

The people didn’t stop cheering until the newlyweds reached the hall of the castle, which was already set for the big celebration that was to follow, and the new Stark pair were expected to sit at the high table, separated from the guests, but along with the Starks and the royal family.

The King was the first to enter the room, holding Lady Stark’s arm, and Lord Eddard was soon following them with his sister, the Queen. Prince Viserys – who Dyanna had found out during her life wasn’t the most social person she had encountered – and his wife followed after, giving Prince Jon and Princess Sansa space soon after. She walked in behind them, sitting right beside Lady Catelyn and her Robb. The rest of both families – Princess Daenerys and the children, Arya, Brandon, and Rickon – followed soon after, and Oberyn and Ellaria just as well.

The last time Dyanna had seen the younger Starks, Arya couldn’t have been over nine, but she knew the girl was approaching her 14 th nameday by now. It was a difficult life the one her mother-in-law had, with her husband living so far from their real home, and she was known to travel constantly to spend time with both her husband and her children at home, always leaving Robb with another sibling to care for the North. Now that Dyanna was there, she wondered if her mother-in-law would spend more time in the capital with her recently married daughter, younger children, and husband. People would expect children from Dyanna and Robb soon – they were both young and healthy - but she was ready for that too. If she wanted their marriage to be annulled without any problems, she would bear him no children. 

“Wine?” her husband offered and she nodded, reaching for her cup.

Giving him a glance, Dy had to hold back a nervous smile. What did he expect of tonight? Perhaps he thought she was just like his sister, a maid who dreamed with knights and loved songs, and had never seen a man’s figure before? How mistaken would that be... She had had lovers and learnt things through the years of looking for a distraction in the boring nights.

“My lady,” someone pulled her away from her thoughts.

Her eyes were immediately drawn upwards, finding nothing but empty space, but Dyanna had to hold her expression when – upon lowering them – she found who had called her name.

“Lord Tyrion,” she forced herself to smile politely.

“I would like to give you my congratulations personally in the name of my family,” he gesticulated at one table, where his father, siblings, niece, and nephews sat. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Again, Dyanna held back an expression of disgust.

Tyrion Lannister was a name her family didn’t say very often. Many years ago, when Dyanna was just a babe of few moons, her father had lost his sister, Elia, the first wife of King Rhaegar and her closest friend; she had been killed and raped by the hands of the mountain along with both their children before he killed King Aerys during a sack of the city capital, which had taken place during the Rebellion of Robert Baratheon, who didn’t want to accept the wedding between her uncle and then Princess Lyanna, and was supported by people who either wanted to throw down House Targaryen for their power or often different customs – as polygamists and sometimes even incestuous unions and more. Robert Baratheon was killed and his brother, Stannis, took his place after bending the knee once again, and the Mountain was killed, but no one could find concrete proof that Tywin Lannister was the mind between his actions, which had saved him from punishment.

The Martells couldn’t take it, however, nor could King Rhaegar. Her uncle – as he liked to be called by any of her sisters and cousins, as he'd never ceased to be the husband of their aunt, and still loved her and her memory – had spent years trying to find a way to hold Lord Tywin accountable for his actions and murders without much success. The reason Dyanna had accepted to marry Robb was that something new had come up that could finally make the family pay for their crimes. 

Lord Edmure Tully was her husband’s uncle and Lady Cersei’s husband. The man had lived his whole life in Riverrun - his father even refused to send him to be raised by a family friend like many families, like the Starks themselves, had done in those times -, but had suddenly died and left his Lannister wife a widow after drowning in the river that crossed their castle. A man who lived in the Riverlands and had been swimming since early childhood had drowned to death, and no one thought of it suspicious, for some reason.

“We brought gifts,” Tyrion continued. “Fabric for the most beautiful gowns, oils and perfumes, books for your library, and a good and hunting bow for you, Lord Stark.”

“I am no archer,” Robb stopped him. “But my wife might find good use for it.”

Dyanna opened a half-grin and a chuckle and turned to her side when she felt her lord husband’s hand over hers.

“Your father is famous for training his daughters in the…” he hesitated. “Well…”

“The arts of killing,” she finished his sentence. “Those are the words you’re looking for.”

He gave her husband an awkward look, then Dyanna, and she raised him an eyebrow.

“What a match,” he repeated. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Robb squeezed her hand.

He moved away and the young Lord turned to look at his wife with a puzzled look.

“You don’t seem to like him much,” he noted. “Lord Tyrion.”

The girl crossed looks with her father in the direction behind him. Truth is, she wasn’t expecting him to ask this question so early into their relationship.

“Well, it’s not him, exactly. It’s his family.”

He sat straighter and frowned.

“The Lannisters?” his voice came out low.

Dyanna moved her eyes from him to their table, then back.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I believe you’ve heard the story of my aunt Elia?”

Robb’s face became understanding and they fell into silence.

“It’s true what they say, then?” he questioned. “The Dornish never forget.”

She smirked.

“Would you have forgotten if it was Queen Lyanna they had raped and killed?” she questioned, staring into his eyes. “If it was Jon they had brutally murdered in front of her, and the rest of his body was thrown away as if he was just the corpse of an animal?”

Dyanna blinked, suddenly feeling tears filling her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted her. “I can understand.”

The brunette looked at the group again and her eyes ran over the children sat with them, the young Tullys. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were the sons of Cersei with her husband’s late uncle, Edmure Tully, but looked every bit like their Lannister mother, only taking their father’s names.

‘No,’ she thought to herself. She didn’t think he could.

“I heard about your uncle,” she noted. “I’m for your loss.”

Robb raised his eyebrows in confusion for a moment but soon seemed to understand what she was saying. Lord Edmure Tully, Lady Catelyn’s younger brother and Cersei’s husband, had recently passed away in Riverrun after drowning in the Tumblestone river. He was found by his squire – Lancel Lannister – short of six moons ago leaving his wife a widow.

“My mother is still surprised about what happened,” he confessed. “When they were children, she and her siblings would always swim together, they are all good swimmers. It is very surprising that he drowned.”

Dyanna tried not to act surprised and raised her eyes to the Lord who’d just stopped in front of the two of them.

“Princess Dyanna,” Jon Arryn stood in front of them, and seemed very happy, although still keeping a serious expression on his face. “Lord Stark.”

“Lord Arryn,” Robb smiled. “I am honoured by your presence.”

The old man smiled. He was the one who’d fostered Lord Stark in the Eyrie when he was a child and was held as a grandfather by his children, as far as she could see. 

“I have brought gifts,” he informed them. “Books and parchment that have been delivered to your library.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Dyanna offered him a kind smile. “It was very kind of you.”

He dismissed himself with a small bow, walking away, and she turned to look at her husband.

“Do you want me to be honest with you, Robb?” the brunette questioned, quickly realising how this was the first time she had even said his name so far. “I think you should investigate your uncle’s death a bit more. It doesn’t sound like an accident to me.”

He was about to say something, but a drunken voice arose from the halls. 

“My lord and ladies,” one of the visiting lords said loudly, making everyone turn to look in his direction. “I think it is time for what the newly-weds have been waiting for since the night began.”

Dyanna glanced at Sansa, already noticing how she was blushing crimson and holding the arms of her chair tightly. 

Various men and women stood up, walking the direction of the newlyweds, but the King stood up before they could even approach the steps that’d lead them to them. 

“There’ll be no bedding ceremony,” he interrupted the group, then turned to Jon. “Son.”

The two didn’t exchange any words, but the prince took his new wife’s hand, guiding her through a crowd that was opening the space for them to pass. Once they walked out of the rooms, the attention was brought to the new Starks, and Robb turned to his wife. She watched his eyes, still absolutely blue under the fire, and filled with hope, and for a moment - just a moment - Dyanna got lost. 

“Shall we?” he questioned, bringing her focus back to right now.

Silently, she took his hand and put herself onto her feet.

“We shall.”


End file.
